


Roll of the Dice

by southsidesister



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, Episode Tag, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidesister/pseuds/southsidesister
Summary: Going through an ordeal with his brother in Boston, Harvey finds himself asking Donna out but is ambiguous about his intentions. Donna is dead-set on not reading into it, but his insistence forces her to reassess her convictions. Alternate ending to 805.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

···

**Roll of the Dice**

Chapter 1

°•.•°

Family. The blood relatives you didn't choose to be in your life but who were there—not always unconditionally. For the lucky, they offered support, guiding you through life until you were able to stand on your own two feet, safe in the knowledge your family was there when you needed them. For the less fortunate, family could be a ball and chain, preventing you from moving forward, regardless of how much you tried.

For Harvey, the Specters fell somewhere in between, with his parents bookending the spectrum. Marcus, his younger brother, had been dealt a different hand and had experienced hardships, like illness, Harvey had been spared. And for all intents and purposes, he loved the man Marcus had grown into and the father he'd become.

That was until he had found out his little brother had asked his own daughter—his own flesh and blood—to lie for him because his _goddamned_ gambling problem had resurfaced. And when inevitably his world had crumbled, he'd had the audacity to ask for Harvey's help, knowing his brother wouldn't turn him down.

Pacing around his hotel room, Harvey's blood boiled. How could Marcus do something so damaging to that poor girl? _He_ , of all people, should know how detrimental making your child lie for you was and what it did to that child's relationship with their parent. _He_ should have known better. _He_ deserved everything coming his way. _He_ isn't even—

Running a hand over his face, Harvey heaved a heavy sigh in an attempt to release the tension wound in his chest, effectively halting his train of thought. Deep breaths always helped, a trick he had learned from his dad when he'd been a kid himself struggling with anger management. At the time, Gordon's solution had been boxing camp—a pastime that, to this day, proved a great outlet for his often warring emotions. Tonight, however, no matter how many inhalations he managed, the outrage remained, obscuring his thoughts under a blanket of strong grief and disappointment.

Down in his soul, he knew what he had to do. Every fiber of his being screamed he should help his brother—because that's what family was for—but how could he accomplish such a feat if he couldn't forgive Marcus' idiotic, harmful actions?

He needed a voice of reason. He needed _his_ voice of reason.

She answered on the third ring.

"Wow, you fixed everything already? I wasn't expecting a call until tomorrow, at least."

Stunned into silence by Donna's unwavering confidence in him, he waited a beat, in no way prepared to be a disappointment. Unfortunately tonight, he had no other option. "I can't do it," he confessed, and he wondered if she'd even heard him, surprised by the gravel in his voice.

"Can't do what?"

"He didn't cheat on Katie, Donna. He lied to hide the fact he was gambling again." Harvey paused, the anger molding into something constricting that lodged in his throat. "And that's not the worst part." Another breath, suppressing a new wave of rage. "He asked Haley to lie for him when she caught him making a bet. I mean, who does that?! No wonder Katie wants a divorce. And I'm about ready to let her take him apart."

Donna winced at the word ' _lie'_ , knowing how effortlessly Marcus' behavior would devastate his heart and spirit—the wreckage impossible not to visualize.

When he'd left that morning, she had been worried about the theme of infidelity repeating itself in his family. Nothing could have prepared her for a situation that was a thousand times worse.

"Harvey. You have every right to be angry at him." Honestly, she was pissed herself for what the situation was doing to her friend.

"But?" He braced himself, although the next words out of her mouth were likely the reason he had made this phone call in the first place.

"Do you think he's a good father?"

"Not right now, I don't."

"I know, but up until twenty-four hours ago, you did."

"So?"

"Those kids are crazy about him." Donna took a moment, then added, "He made a mistake."

"Well, mistakes have consequences." Harvey huffed, the remnants of his fury still torturing him.

"Don't you think him losing custody of his children over an incident like this is a bit of a harsh punishment? Haley is not a sixteen-year-old high school student who was urged to lie repeatedly. He made a misguided call, and knowing Marcus, he's genuinely sorry. Can you honestly tell me you don't think he deserves a second chance? Because he will lose his kids if you don't help him. And you don't want them growing up without their dad around."

He ground his molars. Even though that last comment was a low blow, she wasn't wrong. "I know." Still, why did he have to be the better man all the time?

"And I know you have it in you to forgive him, because you forgave your mom after what she did to you. You know how to forgive the people you love. God knows, we need it from time to time."

There it was again. The profound faith she had in him, even on his worst days, was more than he deserved and exactly what he needed. He could picture her smile as if she were standing next to him. And hearing the L-word struck differently tonight.

"Thanks, Donna."

When the line stayed silent for too long, Donna quietly asked, "You still there?"

"Yeah. Just… I don't know what I would do without you."

"Well, lucky for you, you don't have to find out."

Raw from the day he'd had, he asked, "Why though?"

He instantly regretted the momentary lapse in his generally steady front, stepping over an already blurry line—one which Donna had crossed not too long ago herself, one they agreed would never be crossed again.

"Why what?"

On instinct, he would have replied with a _never mind._ But for some reason, tonight, his instincts failed him, lacking the energy to pretend and honestly curious why she stuck around at all. "Why are you always there for me?"

"Because…" Jesus. _What the hell?_ Donna scrambled to form a coherent reply to a very simple question she had no easy answer for without opening a can of worms neither one was ready to deal with. Or were they? "I care about you."

"But why? Why do you care?"

"I just do."

 _Right_ …

A tense silence took their connection hostage while they both waited for the other to speak first.

"Are you okay?" Donna finally asked tentatively, feeling unnerved by his sudden inquiry—his forwardness so out of character she wondered if something else was on his mind.

"I'll be fine," he stated, nowhere near fine at the moment but closer than he was a few minutes ago.

"Goodnight, Harvey," she said, at a loss for words and confident he'd gotten what he needed.

Before she had a chance to end the call, he caught himself asking, "How about dinner when I get back?" As a strange ripple wove around his heart, he told himself he wanted to thank her properly. Like he had done many times in the past. But that ripple expanded, and he frowned. Harvey Specter planned and executed with an expectation for the outcome. Nevertheless, _hope_ was the only way to define how he patiently waited for a _yes_.

Taken off guard, she stumbled, "Uh, sure." They hadn't shared a meal since Mike and Rachel's wedding. Before that, Harvey's relationship status had ruined any chance for socializing. And without a doubt, a lot had happened since the last time she'd accompanied Harvey to a restaurant alone. But this wasn't him asking her out, she reminded herself. This was nothing more than a friendly thank-you. "You know I like to eat," she added cheerfully.

Harvey's lips slowly curved into a smile as he bowed his head. He had gotten the answer he'd wanted. If she had asked him point blank if this were a date, he wondered, would he have confirmed her suspicions? Likely, he'd have thrown her a question back, inquiring if she'd wished for it to be one. But she didn't, which meant he could keep his hazy intentions to himself for a little while longer. "Yeah. Me too. Goodnight, Donna."

* * *

On Friday, Donna fidgeted with her 4-color BIC pen, reading the same sentence over and over again until all words blurred into a mess of vowels and consonants she had no clue how to make sense of. Her focus was shot, and she was hungry.

Before Harvey had gone to Boston, he had casually mentioned that something they had done thirteen years ago still turned him on. And tonight, they were having dinner.

They _never_ acknowledged their history unless it was in the middle of an argument, usually out in public so they wouldn't have to dive into the minutiae of it. They certainly never joked about it. But apparently times had changed. Then he'd asked why she cared about him, which seemed oddly intimate. At first, Donna had thought he was just feeling low about his brother's marital issues although that reasoning soon went out the window when he had posed the question again. And now they were going out to dinner for no apparent reason. All those things individually didn't mean anything, but adding them up could give a person the idea there was more at play.

However, Donna denied herself to fill in the blanks.

Thirteen years of burying her emotions had led to a famine in her heart, starved for nourishment only Harvey could provide. So, whenever he seemed to offer even the smallest rations, her heart jumped at the chance to be sustained. But it was never enough, and she'd soon be back to starving again, slowly growing weaker as time passed. Over the years, she had learned to shut the hungry sensation off from her conscious mind, although it never fully went away. And making assumptions now would only deplete her more.

She checked the tiny clock on her desk. The numbers looking back at her validated her stomach's growl. Lunchtime had passed about an hour ago, and she closed the manilla folder with a sigh, rolled her chair away and got up.

The door to Harvey's office was open as Donna neared her old cubicle. Immediately, a slew of memories bubbled to the surface, like they often did when she approached this particular part of the fiftieth floor, and she smiled at the perky brunette behind the desk. "Hi, Emma."

"Hello, Ms. Paulsen."

As she stepped over the threshold, all her senses were wired to pick up on anything unusual. "You want me to make a reservation?" she asked, throwing a scrutinizing glance over his frame she hoped would provide some answers. But his tie sat straight, his shirt was a non-distinct white, and the Tom Ford suit he'd worn too often to be deemed special.

"No need. I already made one," he replied, peering over the top of his computer and clenching his jaw to keep from smirking at the woman in the doorway, knowing his proactiveness stupefied her.

She quirked an eyebrow in surprise, her senses waving red flags like a speedway pit crew. "You have? Where?"

"Be ready at seven-thirty and you'll find out," he teased, allowing himself to enjoy the way he had seemingly rendered her speechless, and added, "I'll pick you up at your place." He was convinced his smug face was beaming, but he didn't care. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get back to this," he said, pointing to his laptop and returning his focus on the screen.

From the corner of his eye, he watched how she stood there in the door opening, sizing him up. Parted, full, lush lips fused together while her quizzical gaze squinted at him. "Alright." Then she turned on her heel and sashayed out of his office.

He tried not to look as she walked away. Tried and failed.


	2. Chapter 2

···

**Roll of the Dice**

Chapter 2

°•.•°

Glancing over at her dinner companion, Donna's mind drifted. Unsurprisingly, they had made it all the way through the main course without tapping into the well of why they were there.

The ride to the restaurant had been filled with Harvey talking on the phone to Jack Burton, the CEO of Greystone, who were dealing with a tough merger. Ending the call as they exited the car, Harvey had apologized, but the topic remained as they had fallen into discussions about clients and co-workers and Alex and Samantha's race for name partner.

She had initially welcomed the distraction.

From the minute she had laid eyes on him—his suit traded for a cashmere sweater and dark slacks; with a five-o'clock shadow dusting his face; smelling like bergamot and sandalwood—her skin had tingled with a heat she hadn't been able to shake since. And if this had been a date, she would have been willing—eager—to put out. But this wasn't a date. Was it?

"So, are you gonna tell me why you wanted to have dinner with me?" she finally asked as their plates emptied, done hearing about a ridiculous story of Burton's run-in with a kangaroo.

He took a swig of his drink and glanced up. "Do I need a reason?"

"No, but we don't really go out anymore." She didn't need to elaborate on the cause, but the flicker of hurt shadowing over his features was gratifying to witness. He obviously knew how much his relationship with Paula had impacted their friendship. And although they were back on track, the fact that they had come to the brink of collapse merited some hunger for regret on his part.

"I know." He wiped his mouth on a napkin and placed the cloth on the table. "I wanted to thank you. I mean, I was ready to throw Marcus to the wolves, but I ended up supporting him. It's still unclear if he'll get custody, but at least I've done all I could. And he has you to thank for it."

A waiter interrupted their conversation, handing them their dessert menus, which they simultaneously declined, opting for coffee instead.

The moment the server left their table, she plastered on a smirk, bringing her wine glass to her lips. "I see. So, Marcus is the one who should be buying me dinner then."

"I guess he is."

As Donna met his eyes, she noticed a glimmer of something else—disappointment?—cross over his gaze, but the emotion never took hold. "It's okay, Harvey." This time she smiled a genuine smile. "I'm glad I could help."

Toying with his drink, he stared at her beautiful face in the dim light. And a new conviction nipped at the nape of his neck—a feeling so overwhelming, his heart started racing in defense. Though not unfamiliar, the love he felt for her seemed to have expanded, and the tight lid he kept on his feelings no longer appeared effective. While in Boston, helping Marcus had diverted his attention, but he'd pondered the idea for days: dating Donna. As he watched her now, he didn't have to contemplate anything anymore. He wanted her. By his side. In his bed. In his life.

Although she was sitting within arm's reach, he felt a profound loneliness in the notion she wasn't his and had fairly recently confirmed she had no feelings for him. The reality he could never sustain a relationship with anyone else and the fact she didn't want him either infused the sense of solitude with a hollowness he couldn't begin to fulfill. And yet… dancing at the wedding, the glances they'd shared, her moral support after their friends moved across the country. She certainly appeared to—

"Are you okay?"

Her soft voice barreled through his raging thoughts. _No._ He wasn't, and he had no idea how he could ever be without jeopardizing their friendship. Especially when their fragile bond was in the process of healing. "I'm fine."

"You sure? You were gone for a while."

As always, his initial instinct was to ignore his feelings and change the topic. But this topic he wouldn't disregard, although breaching it felt unnerving. Even so, backing down was not an option. Not again. Because, for the first time in his life, he knew what he wanted—or rather, who—her name spelled in big neon letters wherever he looked. But unlike the last time he thought he knew who he wanted to be with, instead of leaping, baby steps seemed more sensible. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking, that maybe we…" He hesitated, swallowed. "We should do this more often."

And there it was again. That stupid feeling of hope ramming into his chest as he waited for her reply.

Donna had to look away, bringing her gaze to the table instead, because his eyes possessed a tenderness, a vulnerability, she found too difficult to process. Afraid of what she might discover if she looked too closely at his proposal, her head wanted to decline without first knowing _why,_ but her heart and stupid mouth betrayed her. "Sure, Harvey. That'd be nice."

Any ideas she may have had of his actions being simply platonic went out the window because even Stevie Wonder could have seen how his face lit up as she'd agreed, fighting hard to keep his smile contained when he replied, "Good."

* * *

Monday mornings were invariably busy, and judging by the stack of papers in her hand as she trotted into her office, Donna, too, was buried in work. And yet, Harvey had failed to stop himself from dropping by to see her. She had been on his mind all weekend, and being near her now made his heart skip a beat. "Hey."

Hearing his voice beaming over her shoulder startled her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Fortunately, her composure didn't waver long enough for him to notice, and she slid into her chair behind the desk. "Harvey. What can I do for you?"

Ignoring the frosty formality in her tone, he asked, "How was your weekend?"

"It was fine," she said, examining him briefly. "Nothing special. You?" She glanced at the pile of files, torn between his unusual inquiry and the work to be done.

"Yeah, fine." Watching her attention drift, he almost lost his nerve. "Listen, are you free Thursday night?"

Her eyes shot up to his. Last Friday, when the maître d' had signaled for their coats, Harvey had taken hers first, holding it out for her to step into. And then he'd hailed a cab and held the door open for her. The move itself hadn't been out of character, but before she'd gotten in the car, there had been a beat, a second where she thought he might kiss her—and she would have let him. That qualified as a moment, right?

It didn't matter. He'd have to spell it out for her first because she would rather shave her head than read into his behavior. "I think so. Why?"

"Well, I thought we could check out that new Italian place I told you about."

"Sure," she said, catching unveiled caution in her voice and therefore adding, "You know I'm a sucker for homemade Tiramisu."

"I do. So, you in? I can ask Ray to drop us off after work."

She seized him up, accepting his challenge to see how far he would take this. "Yeah. I'm in. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get back to this."

"Sure," he said with a nod of his head.

* * *

"I think I'm dating Harvey." Unsure if she was voicing her concern or delight, Donna chewed her lip.

"What?!" Rachel exclaimed. "What happened?"

"I don't know. His brother was going through a thing and needed his help, and Harvey called me for advice. Then he asked me out to dinner. As a thank you." Even saying it out loud felt wrong, but she continued. "Then at dinner, he mentioned he wanted to do it more often, and we're going out again this Thursday."

"That sounds like two friends hanging out."

"I know, but when we were out, he was the perfect gentleman. He pulled out my chair, helped me with my coat. I don't know. I've known him for a long time and he's always done that, but it felt… different. Maybe, I'm reading into this, but what if I'm not? I'm telling you, something's changed."

"How does he act around you at the office?"

"I don't know. The same? I mean, I'll catch him looking at me… I don't know." Hearing herself speak, she wondered why she didn't know— _she_ , who knew everything about everyone. "I'm probably just imagining things."

"Well, do you want to be dating Harvey?"

Not knowing how to answer that, Donna took a moment to unknot the ball of twine that made up her feelings for the man she had tried and failed to put a label on. Until now, years of behavioral patterns had wired her brain to not carry hope. He had stated—more than once and in no uncertain terms—he wasn't interested in her in _that_ way. And although their attraction was undeniable, his repeated rejections were enough to tuck any lingering desire far away and never revisit them again. You could fool yourself for so long, believing somebody wasn't ready. At some point, you had to accept they simply didn't want you.

"I don't know."

"Donna, you once told me you would have dated him all those years ago. Perhaps the timing wasn't right then because the timing is right now."

"I don't even know if that's what this is." Therefore, she could merrily pretend nothing had changed.

"I think you should find out. It's okay if you don't want to be with him, but if he's wooing you and you're not interested, he has a right to know."

"I know." Donna breathed a sigh. "I don't wanna lose him, Rachel. I mean, I messed up when I kissed him and I almost lost him then, too. I can't risk our friendship again."

"Sounds to me you're not the one doing the risking. And the reason why you didn't lose him then was because he chose _you_ over his girlfriend. If that doesn't tell you something, I don't know what will."

Only a few months had passed since that moment in her office where too many factors had driven her to action, followed by him all but forcing her to resign. In all their years of friendship, him choosing another woman over her—betraying their bond like it meant _shit_ —was the most agonizing experience she'd had. So, the fall-out was still fresh in her mind, overwhelming her as it hit her from all sides. His anger the morning after. Paula. Her torn resignation letter. "Jeez, I need a drink! And you need to get your butt back here, soon. I miss you, Rachel."


	3. Chapter 3

···

**Roll of the Dice**

Chapter 3

°•.•°

On Thursday, Donna exited the elevator on the fiftieth floor and winced. She was already running late, because for some reason her hair had decided today was a good day to be uncooperative. The dress she had chosen to wear had a torn seam right down the side, and it had taken forever to find another in her closet overflowing with the best pieces by Roland Mouret, Valentino, and Alexander McQueen.

Of course, her meticulous presentation had nothing to do with her plans for the evening.

She also _didn't_ add some extra sway to her hip as she walked past his office. No, not her.

By the time she dropped into her chair, her heart was pounding. But Harvey hadn't even looked up from his screen, and in all her not-so-inconspicuous strutting, she had forgotten to get some coffee. Already exhausted, she opened her laptop to catch up on her emails.

Ten replies and two phone calls later, her restless body screamed for caffeine, so she went over to the executive's kitchen, forgetting all about her previous effort when she found Louis in an animated conversation with Harvey.

The instant Harvey's eyes landed on her, his gaze scorched a path on her skin as it traveled from her legs up to her face. _Slowly_. When their eyes inevitably met, his breathing had ceased, and he swallowed thickly.

Okay, so maybe she had wanted to get a reaction from him. The notion was easily validated by the delight welling in her pounding heart as he ogled her. Yeah, he definitely looked at her _that_ _way_ , so perhaps that meant—

"Donna." Louis said, mirroring Harvey's scrutiny with none of the impact. "You look amazing! Have you been doing yoga again? You have that glow. Harvey, doesn't she glow?"

With shocked curiosity, she met Harvey's eyes, his features tight from being put on the spot but looking as handsome as ever, and didn't that just send a shiver down her spine.

"Um… Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I guess," he muttered.

She had to contain a chuckle.

"Oh, come on. She looks radiant," Louis continued. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was in love. Are you seeing anyone?"

Feeling a blast of heat flush her cheeks and Harvey staring at her like he had X-ray vision, she choked back her previous delight and stammered, "Ah, no… No, I'm not."

Then she plastered on a faint smile and pivoted around to face the coffee machine, in need of a breath.

As she braced herself, away from prying eyes, she stared at the Jura like it was the most complicated piece of machinery she'd ever encountered. A freshly poured cup of coffee sat on the counter, and she had half a mind to snatch the thing up and make a run for it. Instead, she traced the metal with her gaze, unseeing. How did it work again? Oh right. Press button. As the object sprang to life with a puff and growl, she thought, _shit_ , and reached for the cupboard to rapidly put a cup under the nozzle.

Behind her, the men continued their discussion. Something about a meeting in the conference room with some client. She should care, she noted. But when her coffee was done and she slid the cup free, Harvey said, "I'll be right there," followed by the sound of a door closing and an eerie silence replacing the men's voices. Or perhaps that was the blood rushing in her ears.

With an unsteady hand, she slid an empty espresso glass in place and pressed the button with the smallest cup on it. No way a regular coffee would suffice. She needed strong coffee. _Very_ strong coffee.

Her heart hammered, and when she heard the ruffling of fabric approach, she froze. Shallow breaths, no moving. Playing possum seemed like the only logical option now that the oxygen in the room had been replaced with a sparking electricity. And what had happened to the air-conditioning in this place? It must have broken down because someone had turned the thermostat way up.

But as Harvey came to stand beside her, she recognized the source of the heat as it radiated off his body.

"Louis is right," he said, his baritone enticingly low as he grabbed his mug off the counter. The sleeve of his suit brushed against her arm. "You look great." He lingered for a moment more until she looked up and into the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. With bated breath, she watched him work his jaw, like he was restraining himself—from pushing her up on that island and having his way with her. Or was she merely projecting? Regardless, she was in trouble. And when he spoke, his voice was so close, she could almost feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.

"We still on for tonight?"

"Yes. Of course," she mumbled, unable to force out anything stronger. Or coherent.

"Good." He paused, hovering near. "Be ready at six-thirty."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Donna wanted to sink to the floor, her legs no longer reliable to keep her vertical. Luckily, a moment later, the machine announced its completed job with a sputter, and she removed the tiny drink, wishing it was a shot of something far stronger.

Expelling the breath she'd been holding, her body tense like a tightened bow, her hands shook as she reached for the pot of sugar.

This was gonna be one hell of a long day.

* * *

Guercio's was a family-run restaurant, and word must have gotten around fast because the place was packed—which wasn't hard, judging by the total number of tables. That also meant Harvey booked this way in advance or he'd called in a favor. Either way, she appreciated the effort.

Although the space was small, instead of appearing cramped, whoever had done the interior had managed to give the room a home-y feel with wooden frames and iron accents. The round bistro tables fit the theme and were definitely… _intimate_.

Staring at the menu in front of her, Donna noticed their hands were so close, if she were to lift a finger, she would brush his skin. Still, she remained stubborn in her conviction he should make the first move. So, she kept her palm where it was, pretending to read while silently daring him.

Harvey didn't disappoint when he put his menu on the table and brushed his fingers against hers for a brief moment—a moment so small, one could call it insignificant. Or accidental.

She knew better. This couldn't possibly be all in her head. So, with a dish in mind, she placed the menu down and interlocked her fingers.

"Harvey. What are we doing here?"

"We're having dinner."

"We had dinner last week."

"I know."

"Why are we having dinner again?"

"Because," he started, nerves suddenly tingling below the surface. "We hardly see each other at the office anymore."

"That's not true," she countered, toying with the stem of her wine glass. "We see each other all the time."

"But we never get to hang out like we used to." His heart now hammered. "I miss that. Don't you?"

Typical for him to throw it back in her face. "I guess."

As he watched her mull over his statement, he decided to toe the line. "Plus." He waited, his lips curling cautiously. "I like hanging out with you."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. But it was the sheepishness in his expression that made it impossible for Donna to look away as the air around them changed into something far more serious—the admission loaded with too many unspoken words forever keeping them apart.

But the spell broke when an overly chatty waiter appeared to take their orders and cleared the weight blanketing them. The older gentleman introduced himself as Joe, the owner and an old friend of Gordon's.

With the focus no longer on the reason for their _not-_ date, they soon were lost in talk about Harvey's current case and the firm's day-to-day. Not unlike any other meal they had ever shared—comfortable, familiar and everything Donna detested. She _knew_ him, could read him from his choice of shirt color, crooked tie, or even signature. Granted, she spent less time these days in his orbit, but he could conceal very little about himself, and still there was an enigma sitting across from her, with intentions that were his to disclose, sheltering a truth she feared might never be spoken.

Without realizing when she'd started, she was picking at her half-empty plate.

"You okay?" Harvey asked, looking at her with a worried frown.

"Yeah." She ducked her eyes. "Why?"

"You seem kinda quiet."

Being lured to dinner under false pretenses, doing a dance she was tired of dancing, made her wish she hadn't gotten her hopes up. Because they were up, alright. "I don't know, Harvey. Something's going on even though you pretend like everything's fine. But I can tell you've been acting differently, and I want to know why."

Harvey slumped back in his chair and toyed with his drink, his heart rate spiking. Was this their moment? His soul's confession was at the tip of his tongue, but he wavered under the building hostility she emanated. And _dammit._ Old habits died really _goddamn_ hard, because he heard himself say, "You're the mind reader. You tell me."

He cursed his cowardice as his thoughts spiraled into the all too familiar sequence of don't-go-there.

"Uh-uh. No." Crossing her arms in defiance, she leaned back as well. "You have something to say to me, just say it."

Annoyance chased disappointed across his chest as the silence broadened. Why couldn't she just read him like she always did and figure it out for herself?

The longer he dwelled under her scrutiny, the more his thoughts meshed into one gigantic tangled cluster, impossible to untie or make sense of. All he could think about was how he wanted her. But saying so out loud was proving to be too daunting, like he was about to bungee jump but the instructor had just informed him there was a fifty-fifty chance his rope might break. _Screw that._ Unless he was certain everything was shackled in place, there was no way in hell he would take the leap. And right now, with the venomous vibe she was throwing off, he was convinced he'd plummet to his death if he did.

Perhaps this had been a mistake. So, he shook his head softly, pursed his lips and swallowed the truth.

Sensing his reluctance to speak his mind sent her fury reeling. So, when a waitress passed by, she beckoned and asked for the check.

Harvey frowned, blinked, momentarily stunned at the quick turn of events. Deep in his soul, a ripple of unease quickly became a tidal wave of panic, but he ignored it. "I thought you wanted to get dessert."

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Donna…" She never turned down an opportunity for Tiramisu, not in the years he'd known her. But her brusque reply was like running into a concrete wall, and after nearly a decade-and-a-half, he'd yet to find a way through it.

"I have to get up early tomorrow, Harvey. I think we should call it a night."

Harvey measured her hunched shoulders and the drooping smile she sported, knowing it was his inability to be honest that pushed her away, and in spite of that, the fear of telling her what he truly felt immobilized him, the lure of an easy out too seducing. "Alright. I can drop you off."

"That's okay, Harvey. I'll take a cab." From her purse, she retrieved her phone and focused all her attention on the device.

The disappointment in his eyes was what she felt in her heart. But he had every opportunity to stop her and didn't. So, when the check came, she slipped into her own coat, gathered her own things, and preceded him out of the restaurant.

A chill blew across Harvey's skin when he caught up with Donna on the sidewalk minutes later. He'd have joined her sooner, but as he had gone to pay the check, the talkative proprietor had been hard to shake. On any other night, he would have welcomed catching up with the man and sharing old stories. But tonight, his mind was preoccupied and he needed to get back to Donna. So, he'd excused himself the moment the opportunity arose, with an affectionate hug and a serving of Tiramisu in a box wrapped with twine. _For the lady_ , Joe had said.

As warm as the man's joy had been, so cold was the reception outside.

Ducking his gaze, Donna kept her eye out on the traffic, no doubt in search for a ride.

When she merely acknowledged his presence with a feeble smile, he lost the last bit of courage he had to tell her how he felt. "Did I do something wrong?" he muttered under his breath.

Having spotted a taxi, Donna stepped onto the pavement. "No, Harvey. You didn't do anything." And wasn't that exactly the problem. She waved a hand, and a moment later, a car pulled up. "Thank you for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow." Then she slid into the backseat as her stomach churned and tears stung her eyes. All she wanted was to go home and burn off her anger and frustration in private.

He watched the tail lights disappear into the night, like the future he had dared to envision, crumbling bit by bit.

"Home, Mr. Specter?" Ray asked when Harvey sauntered up to the car with a haunted look in his eyes.

"Please. And here," he said, handing him the dessert. "You can give this to your wife." With a sad smile, he got in and let his driver shut the door for him.

 _Yeah_. Not exactly how he had expected tonight to end.

.

When she eventually slipped out of her dress, Donna felt mocked by the garment she had so carefully chosen. She was such a fool. Of course, they weren't dating. Harvey was the same emotionally stunted man she'd met twelve years ago, sadistic even, in his callous disregard for the effect his behavior had on her feelings.

Tomorrow, she would either force him to talk or shut it down once and for all. Except… _shit._ Tomorrow was the COO/CFO Forum in lower Manhattan. She knew her earlier excuse for an early morning had been well-founded. Fine. She would give him the weekend to reach out, but if he didn't, she'd draw some laser-sharp lines on Monday.

This game of cat and mouse had to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the next update will be posted faster :S Please let me know what you think! As always, big thanks to Nina and Cassie for their feedback and support :) 


	4. Chapter 4

···

**Roll of the Dice**

Chapter 4

°•.•°

Friday night, Harvey nursed a glass of scotch by the fireplace, phone attached to his ear.

During the day, he'd probably picked the thing up a hundred times; either to check if Donna had reached out or to call or text her himself. But what would he say? _"Hey Donna. Sorry I was a wimp. Will you go out with me again?"_ He could picture the mockery already.

But as his memory conjured images of how that low-cut dress had hugged her in all the right places, he cursed his spinelessness—and so did the twitch below his belt. Whenever they were near, his body yearned to hold her close, to be buried in her depths and drown in her love. Instead, last night, he'd chosen lovelorn misery over a chance of something real.

For so long, taking the risk of losing her had seemed as absurd as driving your car off a bridge and expecting to walk away unscathed. But ever since Boston, the fear of _not_ having her by his side made his previous dread dwarf in comparison. So far, however, he had fallen back into old behavioral patterns, patterns he'd come to realize no longer served him, and it was time for a change. He was ready; ready to be the man she needed him to be.

All he required was a plan, some clear direction to set the stage and express how he felt, because _showing_ her—or trying to—was getting him nowhere.

"So, what's up?" Mike asked. "You didn't call me out of the blue to tell me Louis ditched another client to bang his girlfriend."

"I didn't." Shoving his pride aside, he said, "I kinda need your… advice."

"Anything. What's going on?"

"It's about Donna."

"What about her?" Suddenly, Mike remembered his wife's comment about Harvey behaving mysteriously. At the time, he had thought little of the situation, thinking it was nothing more than women reading into things that didn't exist. But Harvey's halting tone of voice concealed a layered explanation, causing his adrenaline to spike while he waited for his friend to speak. Could it be—

"Nothing, it's just…" He expelled a dispirited breath as words failed him. Having barely admitted to himself he wanted to be with her, he clearly wasn't ready to share his revelation with the world just yet. Or his best friend, or even the woman in question, apparently.

"You're in love with her but don't know how to tell her?" Mike joked, expecting a snippy denial to roll off Harvey's tongue. However, the line stayed silent for too long, and he held his breath as reality sank in. "Oh, my God. You're really in love with her."

Still no answer.

"Harv—"

"What do I do?"

Slightly disoriented from the one-eighty, Mike blinked away the surprise. Seldom had he witnessed such vulnerability from his former boss. It was no secret the man's affection for the redhead ran deep, judging by the sheer fierceness he had protected her with in the past. But he'd always denied he harbored romantic feelings for Donna. Moreover, no matter whom he had dated, Harvey had never used the term 'love', so this new revelation was like thunder over a blue sky. "What happened?"

In a flurry of words, Harvey spoke about Boston and how Donna had talked him off the ledge.

The more he explained about his a-ha moment, the lighter he felt, like shedding all the emotional baggage gave him room to breathe in his own skin. "We went to dinner twice, and I wanted to tell her, but the timing felt… off." No need to add he'd chickened out when she had dared him to come clean.

"You know the timing will never be perfect, right?"

_I know!_ he wanted to scream. Why was this so goddamn hard? Not to mention frustrating as hell. He had never cared about rejection before. Usually, his ego was big enough to fully ignore the possibility of such an outcome. And in the unlikely event the woman of his choosing did deny him, he knew there were more fish in the sea. By God. Even when he had decided asking his former therapist out was a good idea, he would've hardly lost any sleep over it if she had turned him and his Ferrari down. But, as always, with Donna, things were different. "What if she says 'no'?"

"I don't think you're the only one carrying a torch here. She once told Rachel she would have dated you back… then."

The revelation wasn't news. Donna had told him the same thing eons ago. More recently however, she has hollered—for the entire world and the lobby of the firm to hear—that she didn't have any feelings for him. Somehow, that felt more reliable to go on than her accepting his two—which could be construed as platonic—dinner invites. "But that was after we left the DA's Office. A lot has happened since."

"I don't think that matters. Besides, she already called Rachel because she's noticed you've been acting differently."

"She did? What else did she say?" he asked, as his stomach fluttered nervously from the idea she had been discussing _him_ with Rachel.

"I don't know. Honestly, that's all I remember her telling me."

Harvey ran a tired hand over his face. "I think I kinda blew my chances last night."

"Come on. If anybody has offered you a clean slate, time and time again, it's Donna."

She had, hadn't she? All those years; all his fuckups. And yet, they were still friends. "So, what do I do?"

Mike took a minute to step into Harvey's shoes and eventually came up with an idea. The plan was so obvious, Harvey felt stupid for not coming up with it himself.

"Mike, one more thing. Can you not tell Rachel for now? She'll tell Donna, and—"

"You have my word. But I better be the first person you call when it all works out."

"You bet. Thanks, Mike."

* * *

On Monday morning, Donna strutted into her office with a heavy heart and a fierce determination to give Harvey an ultimatum.

After examining the depths of her emotions all weekend long, going from yoga and meditation to the bottom of a bottle of Merlot, nearly drunk-dialing Harvey in the process, and eventually entertaining a pounding headache that had lasted well into Sunday, Donna had one conclusion to draw: she loved him, as a friend whom she could fall _in_ love with in an instant. But this time, unlike her other romantic escapades, it wasn't just her heart on the line—which, after some wallowing, she could piece back together. No, this was a friendship, a job, a life she could risk losing if things went awry. And in a way, she felt like she needed Harvey's reassurance that it was okay to fall; that he would catch her if she did.

But one thing was certain, she was indeed ready for something _more_. In all honesty, she had been for a while now. But if he wasn't, the ambivalence had to end if she were ever to move on. She wasn't getting any younger and was done keeping that door open a crack, always waiting for that single moment where he would kick it down and profess his love for her. Yes, he was a great match—in so many ways—but if they couldn't align their desires, especially after a decade-and-a-half, then it was time to cut her losses.

As she reached the glass door with her name printed on it, she caught a glimpse of a vase with a colorful bouquet sitting on her desk.

The sight wasn't unusual. People, men mostly, often sent her flowers, but she currently wasn't dating anyone. At least not officially. Nevertheless, the gesture was always a welcome one, so she pushed at the handle with a slightly less combatant hand than she'd exited the elevator with.

Muffled between two red roses, a white lily and a bright sunflower was an envelope addressed to her. As she pulled back the flap and opened the card, something fell onto her desk and she picked up the rectangular piece of paper.

Her eyes widened as she read and reread the printed words. Hamilton. Tonight at eight.

She had been dying to go for weeks, but either work had gotten in the way or there were no tickets on the night she was available. Even her Donna-wiles had so far failed in getting seats, and here she was holding a coveted entry in her hand—for a Monday night, no less.

She sat down before reading the plain, image-only greeting card that had a computer printed text on the inside.

_Third time and all. Pick you up at 7? –H._

She read the words until the letters swam in her vision, entranced by what it all meant, when Samantha's voice pulled her out of her reverie. "Who are those from?"

Feeling her cheeks flush, Donna quickly tucked the ticket and the card in her purse and shook her head. "Nobody. Just a secret admirer."

"You sure have a lot of them."

"What can I say." Except this suitor was hardly a secret, at least to her. This morning, she had been adamant to put Harvey in his place. Aside from a text asking how the conference had gone, he had been incommunicado all weekend, and she was done being strung along.

But damn him for blindsiding her with his persistence. _Again_.

Maybe she could give him one more chance. Worst-case scenario, she'd still get to see the greatest musical of the twenty-first century.

"Donna?"

She returned her gaze to the blonde in her doorway.

"The report on Benson?"

"Oh, right. I have it right here."

"Are you okay?" Samantha asked as she approached.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little… distracted."

The lawyer appeared concerned, but Donna didn't carry any desire to explain further. She needed answers, goddammit, and Samantha Wheeler was the wrong senior partner to ask.

As soon as Samantha left her office, she went in search of Harvey. During the thirty-something steps it took to get to his office, her mind was busy stirring up the myriad of ways the conversation could go. _I can't go tonight. What are you doing, Harvey? Do you have feelings for me? Are we dating? I love you._ With each step, her hands grew more clammy and her breathing became erratic. But she had to see him to determine what to do.

Much to her dismay, when she got to her destination, his secretary, Emma, informed her Harvey would be out most of the day.

_Great_. Just what she needed. More time to chew on their situation. "Tell him I want to see him when he gets in, okay?"

"Of course, Ms. Paulsen," Emma beamed from the desk.

Donna glanced at her old desk, fighting off the many visuals her memory summoned at the sight, and turned around.

Irritated, she marched back to her own office and tried to focus on work.

The firm was thriving despite the recent shake ups and the chasm left behind by Mike and Rachel. The stack of folders should have kept her occupied, but her thoughts drifted frequently.

At the end of the morning, Donna sent Harvey a text message saying thank you for the flowers. No word about accepting his invitation, but she felt she at least owed him that. Perhaps his response would give her a clue about what to do. Almost immediately, 'seen' appeared on her screen, but no reply came. Not then and not for the afternoon that followed.

At 5:30 p.m, she was ready to leave for the night, and her notifications were still empty. So, she dialed his number, needing to know what was going on, but her call was directed to voicemail. If he was in a meeting, he'd likely turned off his phone. And with two-and-a-half hours before the show started, there was plenty of time.

Ninety minutes later, with her make-up retouched and a fresh dress on her back, Donna checked her phone again. There was no way she would pass on the opportunity to see this musical, even if that meant flying solo. But an increasingly larger part of her wished she wouldn't have to.

Still. No messages. No missed calls.

Disappointment twisted her stomach, and she heaved a sad sigh. Knowing the next step would be worrying about his well-being, she tried calling his cell again. Right away, a mechanical voice instructed her to leave a message. Again. So, she tapped the number she used to answer herself.

"Harvey Specter's office. How may I help you?"

"Emma, where is he?"

"Ms. Paulsen. I don't know. He had a meeting with Greystone at three. He was supposed to be back an hour ago, but he just called and said they're running longer. I told him you wanted to speak to him. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, that's okay, Emma. Thank you." She knew the upcoming merger Greystone had in the works would make them one of the firm's largest clients. So of course, Harvey was on top of it, making sure everything went according to plan. Still, as she hit 'end call', her heart sank. Goddamn work. He could take five minutes to phone into the office but none to check in with her? If he was already putting his job above her, that didn't bode well for their future. But they weren't dating, were they? So, technically, he didn't owe her shit.

Scolding herself for once again getting her hopes up, Donna gathered her things and locked the door behind her.

As her heels hit the sidewalk, the late spring's tepid breeze brushed her face, the sunset casting a pink glow in the early evening sky. Summer was right around the corner, bringing with it the prospect of long evenings, new beginnings, basking in the warmth of the season's serenity. But like a winter's wind, a sense of loneliness swept across her chest at the idea she would get to spend those nights alone. With a shake of her head, she shrugged the feeling off, lowered herself into the waiting cab, and gave the theater's address as her destination.

Harvey may have stood her up, but she had a show to attend.


	5. Chapter 5

···

**Roll of the Dice**

Chapter 5

°•.•°

The theater was packed, and Donna had to give Harvey credit; the orchestra seats were a few rows back from the front, so the entire stage was visible. She could even make out the details of the stage dressing as excitement bubbled beneath the surface. Everything was perfect, except for the empty seat beside her slicing away part of the joy. She looked at her phone again.

Two minutes to showtime.

No messages.

A moment later, the announcer bellowed through the room, relaying instructions about the use of cellphones—there was none—intermission, and the duration of the show. Donna double-checked that silent mode had been turned on and tucked the device in her clutch. She was about to settle back when, to her right, people started getting up to let someone pass.

In a flash of asininity, she thought Harvey had canceled his ticket and the box office had resold it. After all, she had only assumed he had a ticket of his own. But then his handsome face came into view seconds before the house lights went down, and her entire body tingled with excitement.

The audience exploded into applause as the curtains opened.

"Sorry, I'm late," he all but shouted.

Raising her voice to break through the loud cacophony, she said, "I had just about given up on you."

"I know. I'm sorry." Disappointing Donna was his least favorite thing in the world. Right up there with going mudding with Louis or having a colonoscopy. Not that he had done either of those things, but his heart wrenched at the mere idea. All that mattered was: he'd made it. And as he watched relief dance in her eyes, a giddiness filled him. _She'd come._ Truthfully, he had half-expected her to not show up, especially since he had failed to check in all day. He wouldn't have blamed her, but she was here, meaning he'd been granted another shot at getting it right this time.

He glanced to his left and, in a bold move, patted her leg with his knuckles until she met his eyes.

"You look beautiful," he said and watched a blush crawl onto her cheeks, pushed aside by her smile.

.

"So, what happened? I thought you were picking me up," Donna said as they approached the lobby bar during intermission.

"I wanted to, but Greystone blindsided me with a new proposal for their merger with McMillan. Jack insisted I join them for dinner, but I told him I had plans. I would have called, but my battery died." He stepped up to the counter. "Wine?"

She nodded, and he turned towards the bartender to place his order.

Now facing his back, Donna raked her gaze over his frame, looking for clues. He was still wearing his suit, meaning he'd rushed over straight from the meeting; in the clear light, the touch of darkness under his eyes indicated recent bouts of insomnia; he was tie-less, so obviously things hadn't gone according to plan; and his usually impeccable hair had come undone in several places from where he'd run his fingers through it. But he was here. He hadn't stood her up. So, maybe, possibly, perhaps, she could wait with her ultimatum. But she was _not_ getting her hopes up. No, sir. Not her. Not tonight. Not again.

A minute later, Harvey handed her a glass of Bordeaux, and they settled at a tall table, knowing the second act would commence shortly.

He raised his drink for her to clink. "Here's to you."

Donna met his glass halfway. Although two feet of wood separated them, the dark intensity in his eyes was enough to make her feel as if he were touching her. Likely, it was just her body recovering from the many times his limbs had grazed her skin over the last hour-and-a-half; be it his arm claiming the armrest separating their seats or his leg darting out as he had regularly—and nervously?—shifted in his seat the entire time.

She brushed it off. "I'll drink to that."

When a silence erupted between them, Donna, adamant to stick to her resolution, steered the conversation to business. "The merger is off, isn't it?" She watched him clench his jaw as big brown eyes peered at her like he was somehow still surprised she could read him so easily. But the shit-she-caught-me-look didn't last long.

"McMillan is backing out." Reluctantly, he began to explain what had transpired, hating to focus on the endless afternoon he'd spent with Burton rather than their evening together.

Halfway through Harvey relaying the day's events, a bell sounded, announcing the impending commencement of the second half.

Seeing him visibly fatigued, frustrated, and in need of something stronger than wine rushed a ripple of guilt down her spine for wanting him here.

"Listen, if you want to go home, I'll understand," she said as they came to a halt at the doors of the main room. She was sure him _denying_ he'd rather go home was a lie she didn't want to hear tonight. But then gentle fingertips brushed over her back and landed just high enough above her ass to still be deemed decent. He might as well have used a flamethrower, for a scorching heat suddenly soared through her veins and settled low in her belly—much lower than she liked.

As she swallowed hard against the surge of desire, his body shifted closer, his hot breath tickled her ear, and he whispered, "There's no place I'd rather be."

.

Over an hour later, Donna wiped at her eyes, tears of elation at the beauty and marvel the cast had produced trickling down her cheeks. The standing ovation lasted for a good while, and several times she felt Harvey's gaze touch her—the unexpected waterworks probably the reason for his scrutiny. But dammit, she couldn't help herself. Euphoria equaled sobbing, and there was nothing she could do about it.

As the room began to clear out, they had to wait for their row to empty on either side. The house was buzzing with people analyzing and reviewing what they had just witnessed. Although Donna went over every detail in her mind, she spared Harvey her enthusiasm, knowing him well enough to know he wouldn't get more specific than 'great show'. Add a difficult merger into the mix and she'd be lucky to pry more than two syllables out of him.

"You okay?" he mumbled over her shoulder as they shuffled towards the aisle.

"Yeah, fine." She turned as she waited for an older couple to gather their things. "That was really amazing. I love it when a production lives up to the hype."

He shot her a proud smile and made a mental note to thank Mike.

Once they were back in the lobby, Donna was about to make for the exit when Harvey's palm snagged her wrist, twirling her around in the process.

"Wrong way."

With a confused frown in her brows, she turned to face him and found a familiar smirk on his lips accompanied by a conspiratorial glint in his eye. Then he nudged his head in the opposite direction.

"This way."

Donna followed him with electrified anticipation as he shuffled them against the flow of people towards a door marked 'Private'.

Guarding whatever lay behind was a guy with shoulders as wide as the Grand Canyon wearing an earpiece in which he mumbled something without taking his eyes off the couple approaching.

As Harvey's palm landed on her lower back once more, he gave his name to the bouncer.

"One moment," the big man replied and proceeded to talk into his invisible connection.

"Harvey, what are we doing here?" she whispered, nerves tingling with anxious excitement at this unexpected turn of events.

"You're going to meet the cast," he grinned, observing the shift in her features as they widened and beamed at his words.

Before she could respond, Mr. Security rumbled, "Right this way," and stepped to the side as he pushed the door open for them.

* * *

Harvey leaned his elbows on the green room's bar as he took a gulp of his scotch. He'd been sitting on this bar stool for a good forty minutes after he had convinced Donna she shouldn't worry about him and go enjoy herself. She seemed to know a few people whereas he was entirely out of his element. And after the hellish day he'd had and his phone blowing up during the performance with undoubtedly bad news, he could only muster faking smiles and feigning interest for so long.

But as the minutes turned into a full hour, slowly, one by one, the cast dispersed, off to their dressing rooms before heading home, to do it all again tomorrow.

It was such a different world from what he was used to. In theater, an actor's performance was up for interpretation, by the director, the audience. There were no winners or losers, merely people enjoying their craft and others appreciating the skill on display.

He could see the appeal. Ever since Mike left, he'd been questioning his life's choices and, more and more, about what truly mattered in life. Not that he doubted his profession, just that _winning_ didn't mean what it used to. Especially when he felt like he was losing in other aspects of his life.

Unwittingly, his gaze traveled until it landed on the radiant redhead whose presence in his life overshadowed any other.

Across the room, she effortlessly mingled and chatted with whoever crossed her path, emanating elated beauty as she captivated whomever she encountered. Everything about the theater, from the actors to the directors and the adoring fans, was a tailor-made fit for her buoyant personality. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He was so focused, in fact, he hadn't noticed the woman sliding into the seat beside him.

"What's your name, handsome?" she said, pursing red painted lips on the rim of her wine glass as Harvey swiveled around in the direction of the voice.

Even if another woman hadn't preoccupied his mind, the moment he made eye-contact with the blonde, he knew he wasn't interested. Whatever that lipstick covered was unpalatably artificial, and her boobs, unnatural in their own right, were far too exposed. _Christ._ There had been a time when he would have jumped at the chance. But now he couldn't remember when he'd last considered taking a stranger home.

"Harvey Specter," he said in his most I-am-polite-but-not-interested tone.

"My name is Monica. I'm one of the make-up artists for this show. What do you do?" Sitting forward so he got an ever better shot of her cleavage, she all but watered at the mouth.

"He's a lawyer. And a damn good one at that," Donna said from over his shoulder.

Immediately, his heart jumped, and then her palm landed on his arm, giving it a squeeze.

The blonde's sparkle faded behind a mask of annoyance, and she tugged her tail between her legs. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Harvey." And with those words, she slid off the bar stool and disappeared.

"Thanks," he said while Donna planted herself on an empty seat, a sigh leaving her lips.

Fatigued exhilaration colored her cheeks as she shot him a sated smile that reached her eyes and made him wonder. Was this what she had given up to be in corporate law, to work for him? There was no denying she belonged here, in this scene, with people who were equally drawn to the arts, and he asked, "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"This. Performing. You haven't done any acting in a while."

The smile faded from her lips the longer she contemplated his question. "I've just had other priorities," she finally said.

Harvey knew it was only partially true. The demands of her new position likely left little time for other endeavors, but that didn't mean she had lost the desire to do something she loved. "You know, if you wanted to do another play, I'm sure Robert would give you the time off for it."

Incredulously, she stared at him. "No, he wouldn't."

Yeah _._ She was probably right. Though, if Harvey had been managing partner, he certainly would have. Then again, he'd give her the world if she asked for it.

From down the other end of the bar, the bartender yelled, "Last call," to the few people still milling about.

Donna grabbed her clutch and got up from her chair, happy to change the topic of conversation. "Let's get out of here." Not that she had a plan, but some fresh air would do her some good, she thought, growing increasingly impatient with his inaction and her own building need. For him.

Not sure where they were going, Harvey blindly trailed behind her.

They followed the signs for the exit until they found the door ajar, another mountain-size bouncer monitoring the crowd as cast members chatted and took pictures with fans. It was then Harvey realized they had exited through the backstage entrance.

Once outside, the May air filled her lungs with vigor. Harvey had not only shown up, he had put far more effort in the preparation than she'd initially assumed. How he'd pulled this off was something she would grill him about later, too busy right now to revel in his attentiveness while trying to come up with a way to thank him that didn't involve nudity—his searing touch still sizzling all over her spine.

As Donna waited for Harvey to catch up, she found him staring at his phone, shaking his head. The pale expression he sported she recognized as defeat, and she strolled towards him.

"Is everything okay?"

He glanced up from his cell and the countless notifications coloring his screen, and decided the distraction was the last thing he wanted to worry about now, so he put the device in his pocket.

"It's fine," he said as she came to a standstill before him, peering up with a mixture of concern and something he couldn't place. Of all nights, he regretted his inability to be fully present tonight. If she'd give him half a chance, he'd take her to every single Broadway show until they'd seen them all, and then maybe his _off_ nights wouldn't stand out so much.

"I'm sorry—"

"Thank you for—"

An eternity passed in which her magnificent eyes and benevolent smile blurred the world until it vanished completely and her entire being compelled him forward, an invisible thread drawing him in, like he was the anchor being slowly raised on her ship as they were about to depart. Together.

So he kissed her. As if it were his last act on Earth.

The gentle swell of her breasts pressed into his chest as her weight shifted, and he took the move as permission to pull her body closer. Fingers tangled in her locks as he left no room for doubt about his intentions.

Donna leaned into him, his body flush against her own. He was everywhere; in her mouth, in her senses, in her soul—the kiss far more intense than the last time they had locked lips. And that made her retreat with a frown before they got too carried away, inching backwards to meet his eyes. "What was that?"

Retracting his fingers from her auburn strands, he carefully tucked them behind her ear. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

The stunned look on her face drove him to dip down again and kiss her until the frown eased from her forehead. Donna didn't object; however, her enthusiasm—or lack thereof—wasn't what he'd expected, either, and suddenly terror trapped his valor and made him question his actions. "What's wrong?"

_For the record, neither do I._

Licking her lips, Donna looked down at their feet before glancing back. The desperate need to eliminate any reasonable doubt about his feelings nailed her to the spot. There simply couldn't be any room for ambiguity. "Last time I did that you made me promise it would never happen again."

"Well, things change."

"Do they? I handed in my resignation after I kissed you because you pretty much forced me to."

Shaking his head unwittingly, he winced at the memory. "Donna…"

"No, Harvey. What's changed?"

"For one, I'm not seeing anyone right now." Her eyes pleaded with him, but the distance she'd conjured between their bodies without moving an inch implied she had already made up her mind. "But it's clear you still feel the same way, so maybe I was wrong and we should forget—"

He stepped away from her, granting her the space she obviously desired, when she said, "Oh no. Don't you dare back down now."

Donna, having already breeched the gap he'd created, wore a look he knew all too well. By now, his heart was hammering with nothing that had to do with the excitement of a kiss and everything to do with gearing up for an argument. So, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come next.

"You wanna be with me, you're gonna have to do better than that."

Like she had slapped him in the face, Harvey was stunned into silence. She'd accused him of not fighting before. But he wouldn't know where to begin. If she didn't love him, he couldn't make her, could he?

_Whatever I thought might be there, wasn't._

As a quiet flared up between them, Donna knew that daring him had its limits. Because if he was about to retreat into the depths of his own abused mind, very little was needed to tip him over the edge. And then it would take a lot of patience and care to get him back to even thinking about opening up again. So, she swallowed her pride and placed a hand on his chest.

The pounding of his heart drummed through her fingertips as he jolted under her touch.

"I lied to you before. When I kissed you." Waiting a beat, she let the words settle. "I did feel something, Harvey. I felt it all. But I wasn't going to put you in a position to choose, so I gave you a way out. But if we're gonna do this, I need to know that you're all in. Because I can't lose—"

"I know." He cut her off, his body quivering with exultation. A far steadier hand than he would have expected reached to take hers. "Me too. You're everything to me, Donna. You've always been everything. And I don't know what's different now exactly, I just know I…" _Just say you love her, you idiot._ "I want this. Us." Good enough _,_ he thought. Still, the revelation that had managed to pass his lips made him gulp, his heart suddenly exposed in a way that was foreign to him. He felt naked yet better than he'd felt in… forever. "And you can never lose me."

"Well, I almost did." She stepped closer even though there was no room to move.

"And I'm still here." He drowned in her eyes, glued to her gaze, his heart ready to beat out of his chest.

Instead of answering—a result of her brain quickly reducing to mush—Donna took his face between her palms and brushed his lips with her own, savoring the taste she hadn't allowed herself to indulge in when she had kissed him all those months ago. Back then, the sensation of his kiss had triggered an avalanche of desires that were as off-limits as driving against traffic—and potentially as lethal, too. She realized now, she had backed away from issuing an ultimatum then for fear of him _not_ choosing her. And that dread had driven the decision of making it as easy on him as possible, regardless of her own feelings. But now her heart heaved a sigh of relief as his arms snaked desperately around her waist, and she was afraid it might snap if he pulled her any closer. Yeah. He'd definitely made his choice. And so had she.

As Donna disengaged from their kiss, Harvey took in her swollen lips and hooded eyes. Then she said the three words that would forever change their lives; the dice cast, the winner: them.

"Take me home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys! Thank you so much for all the feedback on this story! It was such a great feeling to finally put this idea out there. Please let me know what you think. As always, big thank you to Nina and Cassie! I love you, gals! Now, on to the next story...

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing around with this story for over a year, but somehow finally found the inspiration to finish it. The next update will be posted soon. Please let me know what you think! :) Big thank you to Nina and Cassie for always being there to bounce ideas off of and putting up with me. I love you, girls!


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